- “By heaven methinks it were an easy leap
To pluck bright honor from the pale-fac’d moon.”
Shakespeare’s The First Part of Henry the Fourth [I.iii.208-9]
Gemini: “Happy birthday to you, you live in a zoo and smell like a monkey, too, happy birthday to you!” It’s a neighbor’s kid. Kid is two, three years old? Maybe? Five? I’m not sure. Walks, talks, is funny. I tried to help once, single moms were always a favorite with me, and I tried to babysit. After I spent two hours in front of the TV with some Mouse Brand of kiddie TV? I thought my brains were starting to leak out of my ears. I can’t afford to lose anymore of my tenuous grip on reality. However, that child-like innocence and word-play? The happy birthday song of the week? That’s for Gemini. In a fun way. Less about actual content, and more about something that seems to rhyme. This birthday is less about content and more about something that sounds all right. Sounds OK, seems to be fun. As a birthday Gemini, you can’t afford to get caught up in the details.
Cancer: I was listening to a buddy of mine “tickle the ivories,” playing a piano-keyboard. The tune, most of it was extemporaneous and improvisational, he was idling running up and down the keyboard, he made it sound so easy. Flawless, effortless, amusing, saucy, insouciant, then melodic as he dropped back into a more familiar and restrained tune. Concerto for Piano, #? He made it look impossibly easy. I figured, since I can manipulate tunes with a mouse, and since I can make noises come out of the computer, using a keyboard, I just figured I could sit down at a piano and tickle the ivories, as well.
While the skill sets are similar, and there may be some overlapping thematic elements between the two, a piano keyboard and a computer keyboard really aren’t anywhere near the same I pounded on the keys for a few moments, figures that this is something that I can’t do, and I learned, in that short time, to respect the amount effort that a good musician puts into honing his or her craft. Practice. “Practice practice, practice.” I was clever enough to grasp the idea that I couldn’t master what my buddy was doing, and I let it go. However, in my field, he’s a client, you know, I do continue to hone and improve my skills. The rhythm of the keyboard, punctuation, grammar, exercise books, and more. Like pounding the keys of the piano, like me, working on getting beter at the mechanical end of the business, you, my fine Cancer moon-child, you’re in a situation where practice is most important. Like my buddy? He say down and made it look really easy. Deceptively easy. Years of practice. Good week to practice.
Leo: There’s a certain brand of soft luggage that I’m fond of. Three or four times now, they’ve produced the perfect luggage for what I do, in my day-to-day travels, between planes, trains and automobiles, what with laptops, tablets and phones. They did run a recycling program that invited customers to return unused luggage in exchange for credits towards new stuff. I sent in three pieces, an old shoulder bag and two backpacks that have been replaced with a single backpack. Don’t even use that much, not anymore. The deal was, I got “store credit,” which was nothing more than voucher good on the company’s website. Wasn’t much of an incentive, but there was the case that my old luggage was recycled. Feel good doing that. I also feel good when I can reduce my footprint, carbon or otherwise.
Less is more. For those three, well-worn, pieces, they got R&D material, too. A chance to see what wore out where. What needs to be strengthened, and what is no longer useful. Think about it Leo.
Virgo: Two years ago, a buddy of mine (Virgo) bought a new Ranger Bass Boat. Shiny, metal-flake burgundy red. Maroon, really, in my mind. He was living in an apartment, and for the first few weeks, he kept the boat at a girlfriend’s place, in her garage. Alas, they had a little falling out, and the boat then was kept, in a temporary space, at the apartment he was living at. Exposed to the elements. In two short years, the fancy metal-flake finish has weathered. Looks old. Looks like it might be a decade old. Or more.
Still runs, we were out a few weeks ago, why I was thinking about this. I think there was, like, a 3-year note on the boat, so he has to keep for another year yet, even though it’s certainly lost its luster. That’s the problem with buying fancy metal-flake paint jobs. With Venus backwards and Mars forwards? What looks good at this moment might not look good in a short while.
Libra: “Well,” the Libra drawled, “it sure seemed like a good idea at the time….” The statement was left hanging, like only a Libra can do, where a statement, in fact, sounds like a question. Or an excuse. Or an excuse that begs a question. Waiting on a request for more data, as in “Explain what you mean, ‘seemed like the right choice at the time,’ as in it might not have been a good choice?”
Excuses are nothing more than a set of extenuating circumstances, and properly spun, can sound like none of the problem could be foreseen, forewarned, or avoided. To keep from getting caught in this week’s trap of “it seemed like the right thing at the time” scenario? Best choice is to run it past your committee. Group of peers, a sounding board, someone other than just your Libra self. Otherwise, you’re stuck with “It sure seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Scorpio: Before there was “teh inter-webz,” memes traveled a much slower and more arduous route. As such, the next statement is an example. “Scorpio, your ‘freaky’ goes to 11.” The original numerical reference is from a movie I’ve never seen, however, I get the allusion. Used it, myself, frequently. The term, “goes to 11,” quickly conveys certain material. As in, for Scorpio, for now, this time, your “freaky” goes to 11. There will be something, an element, a coincidence, a point of reference, something, and it’s going to make your Scorpio head spin. If you let it.
I’ve warned you, consider yourself prepared.
“Wow, that (insert Scorpio thing, place, person, event) goes to 11; Kramer was right.”
Sagittarius: I’m pretty sure it was the movie, “Animal House” that introduced this theme. When the going gets really tough, when there seems to be no way around the problem, when things can’t get any worse? “Road Trip!” The movie itself was a ground-breaking cinematic event, capturing essence and setting the stage for many others of similar low caliber. Frat House, Sixties Movies, exploitation films, the list goes on. Often mimicked but never equaled, the film captures reminiscent sentiment that’s both dated and timeless. However, as I spun around the Sagittarius charts, I kept thinking, “Not happy.” Not sad, but not happy. Best course of action? When the chips are down, when the world seems to implode on us? Road trip! (Run away!)
Capricorn: I get these ideas stuck in my head and I can’t seem to shake the associated images. It was a spanish-flavored music, like a mix-tape, for those who are old enough to understand that allusion. However, this wasn’t a mix-tape, just something, a set, a DJ pulled together and popped up on the web. I was looking for “Northern Mexico Techno” and that’s how stumbled into this one mp3. Set recording. What intrigued me was the easy blend of Spanish and English, with an equally masterful blend of beats and genre-bending material. That’s what I mean about an image, an idea, a single notation that gets stuck in my head and I can’t shake it. Less of an ear worm, and more of a compilation reel. Blend and bend. Only way through this mess. Blend and bend. Like that one local DJ. I still don’t know what his name was.
Aquarius: I was trying to answer a question. I finally came up with a way to answer the question, I can draw you a map, what my astrology and horoscopes are, but I can’t take you on the trip itself. That’s up to you. This is where it goes, this is the route, the passages, the pitfalls and pratfalls, and here’s how I suggest we get from here to there. I can draw the map, but I can’t take the Aquarius trip. I love me my Aquarius friends, but no, I can’t take the trip itself. Here’s the map. Rough seas to the starboard side. Shallow waters to the port side. Go straight ahead. Don’t deviate from your chosen path. There’s going to be a tempting (something, looks like Siren to me) off to one side. As the old maps used to say, “There be dragons.” (Looks that one up, too, it’s amusing.) My map, for Aquarius, straight is too hard, but forward. Don’t deviate from your path.
Pisces: I got one friend, a blonde Pisces girl, and she’s an airhead. Claims it. States the obvious: she’s a blonde. I’ll assume it’s natural, I don’t know for sure. From her astrological birth chart, I’ll tell you she’s quite bright. However, as of this week, next week? She’s blonde. Perfect excuse.
Big, blue eyes, a heaving chest and a sigh, “I’m so blonde at times.” Some folk can get away with it. Some can’t. She can. Just a friend, no ideas here. I’ve seen her insight and wisdom shine through, but in a lurch? Same default protection mechanism. Imagine her Pisces index finger twirling blonde locks, fluttering of eyes, sighing, “I don’t know what I’ll do….” Expectant, pregnant pause. Good luck with that. You’re smart enough to figure this out. I’d suggest though, the usual, “I’m such a blonde at time,” that expression? Might not work this next couple of days.
Aries: I clicked through on what was supposed to a web magazine’s article about a traveling. It was less words than my usual horoscope, which means it was light on content and heavy on white space and advertising. While I was disappointed, it did make me think about my own ways. I’ve traveled, as much as one-third of my time, making shows in different towns, meeting with clients, getting to and from events, and the list goes on.
The trick with travel is to keep mind and body occupied.
There is no great secret. Carry reading material, maybe in more than one form. Ebooks, regular books, magazines, and maybe an iPod with something to listen to? All important. Battery charger, too. Or laptop plug, whatever it takes. None of this is huge, just stuff that’s required. As this week unfolds, figure out how to carry just what you need for minimum comfort. just the basic. Pare back to just what you think you absolutely need.
Taurus: I got introduced to this idea, back in the day, back in a little town in East Texas. Diner/restaurant place, served good food at night, diner food in the daylight hours. The evening meals were chef-prepared, and the ingredients were as listed on the menu. The problem, or the joy, for me, was the presentation was never the same. One time, the sandwich had the crust cut off. One time, crust was on, and it was sliced diagonally. Another time, same ingredients, cut into four tiny square finger sandwiches, kind of like high tea.
The idea is that the ingredients are always the same. Good tasting material fresh, well-prepared, cooked with that urban-fusion-cuisine thing going on. However, presentation was never the same. I ate there a half-dozen times. Same menu item, always different in arrangement.
Venus is backwards. Think about that one restaurant. Always different presentation, never varied the excellent ingredients. Change presentation. Change marketing and packaging. Do not change the good Taurus content.
